Brothers of Cursed Fire
by Sara Jaye
Summary: A collection of one-shots about Alvis and Azel of Velthomer
1. Bastard Child

The sudden slam of a door made Alvis drop his book.

"Azel? Is that you?"

A blur of red hair and a dirty maroon cloak stormed past him, making a beeline for his room. Alvis frowned, rose from his chair, and followed Azel. He caught up with him just as he was about to close the door.

"Azel, what's going on? I thought you were spending the day in the gardens studying."

No answer. Azel quietly threw himself on his bed, but the heaving of his shoulders was a dead giveaway that he was crying. Alvis's frown deepened. Azel, sensitive and emotional as he could be, did not cry easily. Since there were no signs of injury, Alvis was perplexed as to why his brother would be this upset.

"What happened, Azel?" he asked.

A sharp sniffle, followed by a mumbled 'nothing'. Alvis put a hand on his brother's shoulder, almost forcibly.

"Talk to me."

"'m just being oversensitive and stupid," Azel mumbled.

"Why would you say that?" Alvis asked.

"Cause they always say a man who cries over what other people say about him is weak, and I don't want to be weak," Azel said. Alvis released his grip on Azel's shoulder and clenched his fist. _So that's what this is about._

"Who was it, and what nasty rumors were they spreading this time? What did you overhear?"

"I didn't overhear anything. A bunch of boys from the village nearby came over and started saying stuff," Azel said, sniffling again. "They said all this stuff about how my mother was a worthless whore and it was good she was dead, and that father never liked me and wished I'd never been born. I tried to tell em to stop, but they laughed and started chanting 'bastard child, bastard child' over and over again, and they were so loud..."

Overtaken by sobs, he curled up tightly and buried his face in the pillow, soaking it with his tears.

Alvis's face burned with anger. He wanted to find those boys, beat them with a switch the way their parents should have and obviously didn't.

It was bad enough when people spread rumors about House Velthomer. About the disappearance of his mother and her supposed affair, about his father's womanizing and mysterious death. The bastard child of Lord Victor and that poor serving girl.

That bastard child was the only family Alvis had left. He had always prayed the gossips would never personally attack Azel.

As Azel continued to cry, Alvis sat down at the foot of the bed. He didn't know what to say...had Azel's mother still been alive, she would have told him the important thing was that he had faith in himself, but Alvis knew better. As a future king, Azel would have to garner the faith of the people as well as faith in himself.

He had to do something to stop his brother's tears, though. He hated seeing him this upset.

As Azel sat up for a moment to catch his breath, Alvis drew him into a tight embrace, rubbing his back. Azel blinked.

"B-brother?"

"I can't stop the rumors...but I can at least try to take some of the pain away," Alvis said.

"...I must look really pitiful if you feel sorry enough to hold me," Azel mumbled. Though not neccesarily cold, Alvis wasn't a very affectionate person. "Last time you held me like this was when my mother died." His sobs slowly faded, but tears still flowed freely down his cheeks.

"Azel..." Alvis sighed. "I guess I can be pretty cold sometimes."

"You are. Sometimes I feel like I'm just in your way, like I'm not good enough for you," Azel said. "But it's not your fault. You are seven years older and you've got your own life..."

"Be that as it may, I never meant to give you the impression that I don't care for you," Alvis said. "Listen, brother...no matter how many years' difference their is between us, even if we don't come from the same mother, we're still brothers, and you still mean everything to me."

"Alvis..."

"So please...stop crying. It doesn't matter if those fools are trying to slander you. I'll deal with them," Alvis said. "They will learn to respect you even if I have to threaten them with the Falaflame spell!"

The mental image of Alvis chasing those boys while waving the sacred Falaflame spell book was too much, and Azel couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud.

"You wouldn't really burn them, though, would you Alvis?" he asked.

"That would depend on whether they listened to me," Alvis said. "If I had to, I'd just use an ordinary fire tome and scorch them a little." He was obviously kidding, and that just made Azel laugh more.

Alvis smirked.

"So that's what it takes to get you to stop crying?" he teased. "Hearing me talk about threatening a few twelve year olds?" Azel blushed.

"N-no! I just pictured you chasing them with the book and it made me laugh!" he said. "I mean, you're so dignified, running around waving a book at anyone isn't...you."

"Just so you know, I'd never really do that. Or set them on fire," Alvis said. "But I'd want to."

"Thanks, brother," Azel said, snuggling closer.

Alvis sighed.

"Are you all right now?"

"I guess so...but if you don't mind, I'd like to stay inside for the rest of the day," Azel said.

"I'm not doing anything for the rest of the day. How would you like me to help you study some more spells?" Alvis offered.

"Really?" Azel's face lit up. "I'd love that! Thank you so much, brother!"

"You go wash your face, and meet me in the study in five minutes," Alvis said, giving him one last hug. Azel nodded, slowly getting up as his brother let go of him.

'Hm. Maybe I'm not so bad at this big-brother thing after all,' Alvis thought.

And as he pictured himself chasing the boys with the sacred tome, he found himself laughing.

"Lord Alvis! What has gotten into you?" a servant asked as she walked by the room.

"Oh, nothing...just a little joke between my brother and I."

"I should've known!" the woman laughed. "I swear, having that boy is the only good thing your father ever did!"

Alvis smiled.

"I know."


	2. Storms

"Big brother!"

Alvis rolled over and sat up, glaring at the intruder.

"Azel, what are you doing?"

"I-I'm sorry," Azel stammered. "It's just so cold and the storm's so loud and scary, I can't sleep!" It was dark, stormy and unnaturally cold for a night in Velthomer, and Azel did not do well with thunderstorms. "Can I sleep with you?

"Why do you always do this, every time there's the smallest hint of a storm?" Alvis asked. "Go back to your room. I have an early lesson tomorrow and I need my sleep."

"But Alvis-"

"You'll just have to try harder to ignore it," Alvis said. "Go back to bed."

The boy opened his mouth to protect, but kept it shut and turned to go back to his room. Then another gust of wind came, and Alvis shuddered.

It was much too cold. Even in the safe confines of the castle, he could feel it.

And the sight of Azel standing there shivering in the thin pajamas he wore wasn't helping.

"Very well," he finally said. "You may stay with me."

Really?!" Azel smiled brightly and turned around. "Oh, thank you!"

"But only for tonight, you understand?" Alvis said. "Now get under the covers before I change my mind." Azel nodded, scurrying over and sliding under the covers next to his brother.

"You're the best," he mumbled.

"Go to sleep, Azel."

"Right." Azel yawned. "G'night, brother."

"Goodnight, Azel." Alvis pulled the covers back over them and let his head drop against the pillow.

As soon as Azel fell asleep, however, Alvis put a hand on the boy's shoulder and frowned. He was still cold.

_Even with Fala's blood in his veins, he'll still catch cold..._

Carefully, Alvis slipped out of bed and searched the closet. After searching for a few moments, he returned with a thick fleece cloak.

"This should be just about right," he whispered, draping it over Azel. Almost immediately, the boy stopped shivering.

"There." He got back under the covers, and, after a moment's pause, stroked Azel's forehead. "Sleep well, brother," he whispered.


	3. Hurts to Hate

_I hate you._

The words still burn on my lips as I storm from your presence into my chambers. _I hate you, Alvis. I'll never forgive you_. But even harder to believe than what I've said, is that I meant it.

I do hate you, Alvis. How could you do this to me? You personally betrayed Sir Sigurd, your soldiers killed my best friend, then captured me and took me away from my wife, and now you keep me here.

You claim to need my help running your precious empire. An empire I want nothing more than to destroy. You claimed to care for me. That you "weren't about to let another person you loved slip away".

_I hate you._

I loved you. Even though you scared the living hell out of me, even when you made me feel like little more than a burden to you, you meant more to me than the father I never knew. And even though you were slow to show it, I knew you cared for me.

I loved you. You were very special to me. All I wanted was for you to be proud of me.

I still have so many happy memories of you teaching me how to cast spells, reading with me, helping me button my shirts right, taking care of me when I was sick, comforting me when the village children mocked my parentage. I remember your smile when you told me my parentage didn't matter, that as long as I was a member of Velthomer, I was important.

I _worshipped_ you.

_I hate you._

I never wanted to hate you, brother. But I cannot love a betrayer.

It hurt to love you. But it hurts more to hate you.


	4. Strange Conversations in the Afterlife

Warning: Crack lies ahead.

* * *

Emperor Alvis of Grandbell was dead. Celice had soundly beaten his ass, and the people of Grandbell came in droves to celebrate.

But Alvis didn't care. As his spirit left his body and drifted into the afterlife, he knew it was for the best. Oh, he had so many people to explain himself to...Sigurd, the other Grandbell lords, Diadora...

Then there was Azel.

There had always been tension between the two brothers of Velthomer, and when Alvis prohibited Azel from leaving his side after the battle at Bahara, he thought the boy would hate him for the rest of his life.

But as irony would have it, Azel died ten years later from a fatal illness and too much stress. Alvis smiled a little at the memory of Azel's last words:

"I never hated you. I always loved you, you've meant more to me than my own father did." (Strange choice of words, considering Azel never knew the man.)

And now they were about to be reunited. Suddenly, Alvis was worried. What if Azel's last words had been a farce? Lulling him into a false sense of security so he wouldn't suspect the asskicking he was going to get? Alvis hadn't even explained to Azel why he'd killed everyone and kept him away from his wife! Speaking of which, Tiltyu would probably kick his ass, too. It was kind of his fault that Hilda tortured her to death, right?

_I'm screwed,_ the dead emperor thought as he heard the spiritual equivalent of footsteps behind him.

"Alvis?"

The sound of Azel's voice caused all of Alvis's unease to melt away...for a moment, then it came back twice as strong.

"...So we meet again," he said, turning to face his brother. "How have you been? Has the afterlife been treating you well?"

Azel smiled.

"Sometimes it's a bit boring, but it's been wonderful seeing old friends again," he said. "Lex and Tiltyu welcomed me with open arms, and I chat with Sir Sigurd on a regular basis."

"And Diadora?" Alvis asked.

"She's with Sir Sigurd again, but she's been looking over you," Azel said.

"I suppose it was inevitable that she'd return to him," Alvis sighed.

"How are your children?" Azel asked. He'd met with Yuria and Yurius a few times, and spoken with Cyas shortly before he died.

"Cyas and I barely speak. He's currently helping citizens in Lenster and Thracia," Alvis said. "Yuria is well...as well as one can be when held prisoner by Manfroy. And Yurius..." Alvis trailed off. "Like Diadora returning to Sigurd, it was inevitable that he would..."

"Turn to the dark side?" Azel nodded sadly. "I'm very sorry."

"It can't be helped...by the way, I saw your two children briefly during that last battle. They're looking well...they have their mother's spirit," Alvis said, quickly changing the subject. Azel smiled.

"I've been watching them...especially Arthur, I was worried when I found out he was left alone in Silesia," he said. "And Tinny came out stronger from being raised by Queen Hilda, I think."

"...How is Tiltyu? She's not holding a grudge against me, is she?" Alvis asked tentatively.

"She's forgiven you enough not to fry you the minute she sees you," Azel laughed.

The two became silent again, as the biggest question of all hung over Azel's head. He hadn't taken the chance to ask while they were alive, but...

"Alvis?"

"Yes?"

"...For all these years, I've..." Azel bit his lip nervously. "Why did you do it? Why did you lull everyone into a false sense of security only to have your troops lay an attack on them at the last minute? Why did you betray Sir Sigurd?"

Alvis swallowed hard. For years, he himself didn't know exactly why he'd done it. All his reasons-Diadora, Sigurd being a threat, the good of the empire, Manfroy's influence...all those reasons were only a small part of the big one, the core reason he'd done all that.

"Well, Azel...I suppose you have the right to know the truth, now that we're both dead," he said. "The truth is..."

Azel was silent. Alvis took a deep breath, and his face became more serious than Azel had ever seen it before. This was the moment of truth, the moment he would finally understand...or hope to, anyway.

Alvis spoke, slowly and deliberately.

"I did it for the lulz."

Azel fell over.

"Say that again?" he said.

"The lulz, Azel, the lulz!"

Alvis was laughing now, and Azel looked like he was about to kick his ass.

"You..." he growled. "Big brother...you...are...the most terrible person...in...the...whole...world...!"

"But it's so much fun!" Alvis grabbed a megaphone out of nowhere. "Attention afterlife! I betrayed Sigurd for the lulz!"

Everyone followed Azel's lead of falling over and looking like they were about to beat the ever-loving snot out of Alvis.

Five minutes later, everyone was laughing.

When you're dead, you tend to get over things fast.


End file.
